


Unhappily Ever After

by RoyaiFan101



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Marital Problems, No happily ever after sorry, Post Promised Day, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyaiFan101/pseuds/RoyaiFan101
Summary: Not all lovers get their happy ending.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang, mentions of other couples
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	Unhappily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! Have some Royai angst! Where they don’t get a happy ending, but hey- everyone lives. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Or not.
> 
> Totally up to you.

Their marriage is a happy one.

At first.

What causes it to slowly turn unhappy isn’t either of their faults, it’s the other citizens of Amestris. It’s their friends and former colleges. It’s everyone and their Great Aunt Mildred wondering when the _Führer_ and _First Lady_ of the proud country of Amestris are going to be welcoming a bouncing baby boy or a precious little girl into the world.

The problem? It _won’t_ be happening. Because it _can’t_ happen.

Riza can’t have children, a fact she learned during a physical exam she had during her days at the Academy. It’s a bitter feeling, learning that she’s barren at barely seventeen. Especially since she wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted any children or not to begin with.

But to have the choice to make said decision taken away? It’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that Roy is indifferent to having any children at all. It makes no difference whether or not there’s a little boy or girl that calls him _Dad_ running around.

He knows he won’t get any babies from her. He’s known since Maes and Gracia Hughes welcomed Elicia into the world. He had asked, out of curiosity, if she ever thought of having kids of her own. And she had bluntly told him she was _barren_. It was never brought up again.

That information didn’t stop him from wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. It hasn’t stopped him from loving her.

 _Yet_.

What Riza struggles to deal with the most is all of the whispers from the people of their country, berating her under their breath for not performing her “ _wifely duties_ ” and allowing her husband to experience the joys of _fatherhood_.

_How dare she take that from him?_

She struggles to deal with Rebecca, her best friend, with three little ones of her own- _all girls_ \- and now a fourth baby on the way, asking at least once a month when her daughters are going to be getting a cousin and she a Godchild.

Because almost no one knows the truth. It’s why Riza stopped doing any type of interviews six months into the marriage. Because all any of them wanted to ask her about were _babies_.

_When are the babies coming? How many babies do you two want to have? Do you want a girl or a boy first? What are the chances of you being pregnant right now? Why haven’t you gotten pregnant yet?_

Madam Christmas knows, of course. Grumman knew as well, but he’s passed away since being told that the Grumman, Hawkeye, _and_ Mustang family lines would be ending because of Riza. But not before reminding his only grandchild that there were plenty of children who needed and wanted good homes and loving parents, and that blood _doesn’t_ make you family.

Ironically, them being war criminals makes them unqualified to adopt, despite being the Führer and First Lady of the country.

And of course Riza _wants_ a baby.

She wants one so bad, it drives her to the brink of insanity on some days. A perfect version of her and Roy, with big chubby cheeks, bright brown eyes, and a mop of messy black hair. She would do _anything_ , give up _everything_ , just to have the chance of her getting pregnant go from a strong _no_ to a weak _maybe_.

Too bad she hasn’t so much as been a day late on her period in the eighteen years that it’s been since being told she would never be able to conceive, even after never making Roy use _any_ sort of protection when they had sex during their relationship- both pre and post it becoming _legal_ , because she’s hoping- _praying_ \- for a miracle.

A miracle that won’t happen. Not for her, at least.

She always makes sure that he’s gone to work before she cries over what she’ll never get to give him.

* * *

Their marriage begins to crumble, _slowly_ on Riza’s side, after four years, when people begin to _talk_.

It starts because of some anonymous gossip columnist (damn those freedom of speech laws sometimes) starts a rumor that Führer Mustang is having an _affair_ with a pretty redhead that works at _Joyeux Noël_ , a prestige bar in Central.

The redhead is actually _Vanessa_ , his baby sister, and _Joyeux Noël_ is the new bar he bought Madam Christmas following the events of the Promised Day. So Riza knows the rumors aren’t true. But she also has the feeling that the rumor wouldn’t have even started to begin with if she had pushed a baby out of her crotch by now.

And _that_ hurts. So damn much.

It also hurts when she sees him interacting more with other people’s children in public. Elicia and her newborn son, Rebecca and Jean and their now _four_ little girls, Alphonse and Mei Elric with their two boys, and Ed and Winry with their _six_ children- three each.

An even split. Lucky bastards.

And poor Roy. He has no idea. He thinks she’s fine. Thinks she just scoffs at the rumors the tabloids make about them, like he does. It’s not his fault she doesn’t inform him otherwise.

* * *

The straw that breaks the camels back is when a gossip columnist- the _same fucking asshole_ who started the affair rumor- suggest that Riza had _terminated_ a pregnancy.

That _enrages_ Roy.

He makes a press conference, informs the tabloids that that rumor is disgusting, that she’s never been pregnant. He tells them that _he_ doesn’t want kids- _she_ doesn’t want kids. So quit fucking asking about babies that will never happen. They will be answering no more questions about goddamn babies.

She is grateful that he lies and says she doesn’t want kids, instead of being truthful and announcing her fertility problems to the public.

Later that night, when he tries to get frisky with her, she roughly shoved him away. She gets out of bed, grumbling under her breath that she isn’t in the mood and can’t sleep, before leaving their bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her. Roy doesn’t follow her.

It’s the beginning of the end for _him_ and the end of the end for _her_.

* * *

He’s gone to foresee the training exercise between Briggs and the East for the next three days when she starts packing. Riza doesn’t pack much, just her clothes, some of her guns, a few books and pieces of jewelry.

None of the things she takes with her where gifts from Roy.

She leaves him a letter, places it folded nicely on top of his pillow, before taking the most important item she’s taking with her in her purse, leaving the Führer’s mansion behind.

Let the staff think she’s going on a vacation. She doesn’t know where she’s going to go. She has money, her inheritance from Grumman in an account only she can access. Roy can never touch it unless she dies first. Perhaps she’ll buy a small cottage in Aurego? Or a studio in Creta?

One thing she knows for sure? She’s leaving Amestris. And walking away from a five year marriage to a man she has known for over a quarter of a century

Riza wonders how long it’ll be before a relationship between Roy and the daughter of a politician or niece of a high ranking General is announced in the papers. The people will approve of the new arm candy, much more so then his former body guard did.

Even though her familial connection to Roy’s predecessor was kept a secret from the general population.

* * *

Roy comes home to an empty home.

At first, it doesn’t bother him. Riza has a life of her own, outside of being his wife. He puts his suitcase down by the front door- he’ll take care of it later- and goes upstairs to take a shower and put on some comfier clothes.

When he’s getting dressed, he notices the paper on his pillow. He picks it up, worried it might be a ransom note for Riza, until he recognizes her elegant hand writing.

_Roy,_

_I can’t do any of this anymore. I can’t be like you, and pretend that everything is fine. Because it’s not. Nothing has been fine for a long time now. We both know that. But I can’t keep living in denial. You seem comfortable doing so, but not me. I’m sorry. Goodbye._

_Riza_

Tapped beneath her name on the paper, is her gold wedding band.

Roy stares at the letter in disbelief. What? What is she talking about? What did he do wrong? He tosses the letter on to the bed and frantically starts searching for her through the manor. But she’s gone. A lot of her stuff is gone.

He sits down on the bench at the end of their bed, and that’s when he sees it. The small white and gold urn, that once sat on the center of the mantel in their bedroom, containing Black Hayate’s ashes is _gone_. And Roy knows.

_Riza is never coming back._

**Author's Note:**

> Joyeux Noël, according to Google translate, is French for Merry Christmas.


End file.
